Trick or Treat
by StokinDembers
Summary: <html><head></head>Months after his humiliating defeat at the hands of the Guardians, Pitch Black has remained a terrorized prisoner within his own dark fortress. Haunted by his fears and the Nightmares that tirelessly pursue him, Pitch summons the Spirit of the Wishing Star in a final act of desperation. But will the wish she grants him bring about his undoing or his salvation...? (A Halloween fic!)</html>
1. Chapter 1

Hello readers!

This Rise of the Guardians short story fan fic was inspired by this upcoming October holiday...  
>About the story content I will say no more ;P<p>

This first bit of the story I suggest you read it nice and slow... and do your best to imagine the fabulous Jude Law's own voice, as if these were Pitch's very same thoughts!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Rise of the Guardians nor Pitch or any other familiar character mentioned. My only OC is the Wishing Star!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong><span>Trick Or Treat<span>**

* * *

><p>Chapter One<p>

...

It was not fair!

He was not some insignificant, immortal spirit to be so easily cast aside and forgotten!

He did not deserve this!

To be left alone in the cold darkness without companionship of any kind.

To be subject to the very Nightmares in which he had once summoned as a powerful ally!

Those _Guardians_!

They did not deserve to grace the pedestal of praise they set themselves so highly upon.

Why... if they did not have their own special seasons to govern, their own _pathetic_ human holidays to glorify themselves and lure the children of the world into a false sense of security, then they would be just as worthless as-!

Wait...

Wait a minute...

Now there was an idea...

A human holiday... a holiday in which _he_ would be praised, in which _he_ would be believed in...

GAH! But it was no use! He was trapped down here in his prison of darkness, and there was no escape. Even if he could defeat the Nightmares, his fears crushed down mercilessly upon him, and always crippled any possible efforts he dared to conceive.

Then, it was in that mournful, sobering moment that Pitch Black had an epiphany.

He needed _help_.

He was powerless down here, a prisoner to his own devices and without any means of escape. Not on his own.

It was painful to admit, but Pitch could no longer ignore the truth that had been silently stirring deep down within his black heart during the millennia's of his existence.

What was more, he was _tired_ of being lonely. He was tired of being estranged and misunderstood by every living soul on the planet. All he wanted was to be believed in! Was that too much to ask?

It was not his fault that he had been chosen as the enforcer of fear and darkness! The Man in the Moon was responsible for that! If the Guardians could see beyond their own conceited heroism, they would know that the real war should be waged with the Moon Spirit!

Pitch Black swirled around in a fit of anger, his black robed form morphing into the menacing shadows about him.

The wild squeals of the Nightmares echoed all about his large fortress, their hooves stamping upon the cold cobblestone ground. He could hear the wild snorts from their nostrils and sense they drew near.

Galloping after him, haunting his soul wherever he went, the Nightmares were easily able to smell and track him when his fear was most potent in the air. Brief were Pitch's moments of respite. Rest was a precious thing in which he no longer had the privilege. And light? It was just another luxury in which Pitch could not afford to enjoy.

The one and only exception of this was that single night a month that he would gather what was left of his shattered courage and wind his way up the various spiral stair cases, dodging the notice of Nightmares every step of the way, towards the hole that was the top of the fortress in which he had been dragged into all those months ago.

It was there that he would hide for several hours and set a scathing glare upon the moon, sending every spiting, hateful thought along within the reach of his gaze towards the spirit who lived there.

This was where Pitch stood now, keeping to the murky shadows and quelling the stench of his fears by tempering them with the steam of his fury.

After three full moons, many terrifying nights, and countless curses uttered up to the Man in the Moon, he would tolerate the cruel twist of fate that had been dealt to him no longer!

Scanning the twinkling skies, Pitch's brooding glare swept through the hundreds of constellations in search of a particularly bright and shining star.

The _Wishing_ Star.

Daughter to the Man in the Moon, the Wishing Star was perhaps Manny's most beloved spirit. It was through her power alone that wishes were granted, but only for those who had the great fortune of spotting her out.

The Man in the Moon made it his job to keep her well hidden and tucked away each night so that her powers could not be wrongly abused. But every once in a good while... one lucky person would beat the odds, and the wish granting spirit would answer their call.

Pitch Black did not have such good experience with this practice, but tonight seemed like as good a night as any to give it another try.

"Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are..." Pitch hummed faintly beneath his breath, as if he were to lure her out from where she hid.

Many tales of her unmatched beauty had been told. Various versions of how she spoke, and how she acted were fragmented into rumors of all kinds all over the world.

Pitch Black had never before taken any interest in the frivolous story tellings of the accounts on the Wishing Star, but things had drastically changed in the last hundred years. Tonight, he was _desperate_.

"I know you are out there..." Pitch muttered darkly. "And if not tonight... then some other night... I _will_ find you..." he warned.

Back and forth his eyes swooped through the night sky, taking in the twinkling stars above while in the back of his mind, listening for any hint of the Nightmares' approaching.

Seconds ticked by like hours, and the agony of the time passing in fruitless search gnawed at Pitch's soul. Soon the Nightmares would find him, and he would be forced to flee once more.

Orion's Belt winked down at him, as did the Serpent and the Dragon. They mocked his efforts! Clenching his teeth, Pitch doubled his determination and spied out every cluster, every shooting star and distant planet.

"You would seek to keep her hidden away forever," Pitch hissed up at the Man in the Moon, sending the infernal spirit a quick sneer.

Then, he saw it. In the shadow of the moon's left side, a small but bright star pulsed in vibrant blue light. Pitch's breath caught in his chest and he stared up in awe, hoping beyond hope.

"Is that _you_...? My dear little wish giver?" Pitch breathed out in a hoarse whisper.

As if to reply, the distant blue star flickered rapidly, the lively flashes likening to that of a rather delighted dance.

"Why, it _is_ you!" Pitch smiled wickedly in satisfaction. Then, with eager anticipation, he raised his voice to project it loudly into the night.

"Star light, star bright,  
>the first star I see to night,<br>I wish I may, I wish I might,  
>have the wish I wish tonight!"<p>

The gay little blue star twinkled a few more times, then, the light dimmed and she was gone.

The star had disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

All was still and silent.

Pitch Black strained his eyes and his ears through the sudden darkness that seemed to increase in potency around him. Even the distant snorts and whinnies of the Nightmares had subsided into an eerie nothingness below him within his shadow fortress.

The Wishing Star had vanished from the night sky, and now, Pitch fell subject to the tormenting storm of wary anticipation within his heart.

"Is this some sort of trick?" he muttered in frustration.

Had the Wishing Star turned her back on him? Had she refused to consent to the makings of a wish that had come from the despised likes of the Shadow Spirit?

Another moment of waiting and Pitch grit his teeth in bitter disappointment. He should have expected such treatment. Why should he have believed for even a moment that he would be treated like any normal supernatural being?

In a ferocious fit of anger, Pitch growled loudly and spun away from the hole of his cavern to march his way down the spiral stair cases.

"Even a simple wish I have been denied!" he roared into the vast blackness, his voice booming into the empty spaces and echoing back at him.

In crushed, soul wrenching defeat, Pitch collapsed to his knees upon the cold stone floor and slammed his fists against the ground.

_Why? Why me? Surely I do not deserve this..._

While his heart despaired, his anguish and torment thick within the atmosphere, a crisp speck of pure, clean light began to form suspended in the air above him.

As Pitch continued to wallow in his woes, the light's size and brightness steadily increased. Suddenly aware of the light reflecting off the stone floor, Pitch looked up, and gasped in shock, shrinking away and shielding his eyes.

The sheer intensity of the light was absolutely blinding for the supernatural embodiment of darkness, and Pitch quivered upon the floor in helplessness. There was no where he could hide, for darkness could not exist in the presence of such a powerful light.

"Do not be afraid, Pitch," Spoke a warm, sweet and melodic voice. "For I am the Wishing Star, and I have heard your call."

With the sound of her gentle, reassuring tone, Pitch dared to risk his first tentative glance at the entity who had invaded his fortress.

She was the most beautiful sight Pitch had ever beheld.

The Star Spirit was adorned in a flowing, glistening gown, her hair long, wavy and draping over her shoulders. Her face was round, her skin fair, and exuding a gentle blue aura about her. Her lips were soft and full and her eyes twinkled like the stars in which she lived amidst.

She remained suspended, weightless within the air, her clothes and hair waving gently in a nonexistent breeze. The power of her light extended to every corner of the previously dark and gloomy fortress, bathing every square inch of it in light.

The Wishing Star smiled down upon Pitch's awestruck expression, her long lashes fluttered against her blushing cheeks.

"My father has told me much of you, Pitch Black," she said, her entire countenance as pure and innocent as a child.

"You are a 'self-serving, cold hearted, devious spirit' he said," she informed, folding her hands together in front of her.

"Such potential you once had... and instead you have warped yourself into an agent of evil," she went on, her star-bright eyes dimming with sadness.

Pitch's heart squeezed within his chest, a mixture of guilt, hopelessness and anger roaring within.

"It is not my fault! Your precious father underestimated me! He cast me off to the side, and likewise, so did all of the others! They despised me from the beginning. It was _they_ who inspired my betrayal!" he protested bitterly.

"You and you alone are responsible for your actions, regardless of your excuses to the contrary," the Wishing Star replied, her tone firm, but not unkind. It was the first time Pitch had received any kind of rebuke that did not make him seethe with fury.

In fact, he felt momentarily convicted. Try as he might, he could not deny the truth of her words, and they did sting. Pitch shook his head and pressed on, refusing to think too hard on the subject.

"If that is so, then why are you here?" he questioned hotly. The Wishing Star's firm expression melted into one of softness and she smiled lightly upon him once more.

"Because, I believe everyone deserves a second chance..."

Pitch blinked. That had not been the answer he'd been expecting.

"What is it that you wish for Pitch Black?" The Star inquired sweetly, her kind eyes sparkling down at him. Pitch's mouth went dry and his breath became shallow.

This was it. He truly was about to have a wish granted...

The sheer weight of the moment suddenly crashed down onto Pitch's shoulders. Did he really know what it was he wanted? If he could have any wish he asked for, was he so certain that he could make the best decision?

"You had a certain wish in mind... I believe..." the Wishing Star spoke, shattering through his fretful thoughts. "Why don't you share what it was?"

Pitch looked up and eyed the Star Spirit tiredly. She was right. He could not second guess himself now. After all, what was it he wanted most? To be believed in.

Finally taking the liberty to get off of his knees, Pitch gained his feet and stood before her, brushing his black cloak off and sighing.

"The desire for a human celebration day of my own had briefly crossed my mind," Pitch admitted reluctantly. "A celebration in which humans would revel in my powers and I would have my chance to be believed in."

The Wishing Star was silent for a long moment, her beautiful round face simply looking at him with those eyes of her that seemed to pierce through his very soul.

Pitch waited, uncertain and anxious about what it was the Wishing Star might be thinking...

Then, she unfolded her hands and they began to glow. Slowly, she hovered nearer to him in the air, and Pitch's heart thudded faster within his chest.

"Pitch... I deem your wish granted. Indeed, there is already a human holiday that I believe will suit your purposes," she smiled. "But there are conditions. No granted wish comes without a price..." she warned.

Suddenly wary, Pitch's brows narrowed and he looked upon the Star uncertainly.

"Conditions?" he questioned skeptically.

"Yes. Firstly, you will remain a prisoner within this fortress on all days of the year, except for the one holiday of the year in which you shall be set free to your own devices. This way, it will remain until you prove yourself worthy of being trusted..." she informed softly.

"Prove myself worthy of trust?" Pitch scoffed. "And how exactly am I to accomplish this?" he asked ruefully.

The Wishing Star looked upon him with a serious, and pointed gaze.

"You must solemnly promise me that you will never again seek to overthrow the Guardians or the precious values in which they protect... You must promise that you will use your powers solely for good..."

Pitch could barely refrain the fit of laughter which bubbled up inside of him. Had the Star Spirit gone completely mad? It was a joke! Surely! She could not believe him capable of doing, or being anything _good_. Not after the millennia's in which he had served to do just the opposite!

"Those are my conditions," the Wishing Star stated firmly, her tone direct. "If you do not comply, consider your wish void."

That effectively stole the humor from Pitch's spirits. It seemed he had no other choice.

"Very well," he agreed after a long moment, though inwardly he doubted such a ludicrous promise would be able to stay kept.

"Good. It is finished then," The Wishing Star commanded, "Your wish is granted."

Then, before Pitch was prepared, the Star Spirit began to shrink.

"No wait!" he shouted in protest, "How long must I wait before the day of my freedom comes? I do not even know the holiday in which you speak!"

Though the Wishing Star continued to shrink, the lovely voice did reply, echoing off the walls of the cavern.

"You have only fifteen days left to wait...

... and the day is known as Halloween..."


	3. Chapter 3

Children were EVERYWHERE.

The streets were littered with little ones dressed in ridiculous costumes of all sorts, carrying their baskets full of candy and skipping along the sidewalks from door to door.

Joy was abundant upon each of their runny nosed faces and they continued their festive activities with excitement, completely oblivious to the dark presence among them.

Pitch Black grit his teeth at the fact that not a _single_ child could see him.

How was he supposed to enjoy this one day of freedom, this _Halloween_ day, if no one knew he was around, much less believed in him!?

Standing in the darkest alley corner between a set of vintage homes, Pitch Black began to wonder why he'd even asked for a day of freedom from his dark prison at all. No one could see him, he couldn't do anything that was _his_ idea of fun, nor could he cause the slightest hint of mischief with the Guardians.

This whole situation wasn't fair! Pitch growled out loud, unable to contain his frustrations, and stalked out from the alley and into the wide open streets. The sun was setting, lighting the sky with an orange and yellow aura. Shadows were creeping forward and the street lamps blinked on in anticipation of the coming darkness.

Across the road, a little boy dressed as Peter Pan hid behind a bush and suddenly jumped out at a pair of unsuspecting girls in princess gowns with a loud "BOO!"

Both girls squealed in fright, making Pitch grin in devlish amusement, when quite unexpectedly, the fear on their faces transformed into pure joy and giggles once they saw their attacker.

They... _liked_ to be scared? Pitch frowned in displeasure at the disturbing thought.

...

Elsewhere, a few hours later, Pitch continued his survey of the country's neighborhoods on this gloomy, spooky night. It seemed like children all over the world throughly enjoyed a good scare on this particular holiday.

Under a low branched tree in the midst of a '_haunted_' park, Pitch Black brooded as groups of greedy children in the background devided their candy spoils on the picnic benches and stuffed their faces.

With a huff, Pitch shook his head.

_What am I supposed to do now?_ he grouched.

"You can join the fun..."

"GAAAHHHH!" Pitch shrieked, jumping away from the tree and spinning to face the illuminated form of the Wishing Star who had quite literally appeared out of thin air.

Pitch gulped and settled down from his startled state with a perturbed expression on his face.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Pitch demanded grumpily.

"It pained me to see you weren't enjoying your first free night. I don't like seeing any of my wishes going to waste," the Wishing Star smiled, her eyes shining with pure innocence and sincerity.

Pitch gawked in wonder, momentarily taken back by her reply. Why should she care about him waisting his night? What business was it of hers anyway to-! Well, on second thought he supposed it was her business after all...

"You'll have to wait another whole year before you get another chance at having some fun in your element," the Wishing Star reminded gently, her eyes smiling at him.

Pursing his lips, he glanced back at her skeptically, searching for any sign of dishonesty or hidden intentions. But not a trace of evil could be detected, and soon after he found himself getting distracted by her beautiful features and the graceful curves of her heavenly body. Mentally, Pitch shook his head and refocussed.

"My element?" he scoffed. "This is _far_ from my element. These are happy, smiling faces who laugh at fear and think it a mere _game_!" he hissed.

"And why should it not be? Why should the children not enjoy a little fright here and there? Some handle it better than others... but, as you've already seen, there are many who find a good scare to be a fun source of entertainment," the Wishing Star smiled assuringly, her tone soft and soothing. Pitch stood silent.

"Was this not the case with you once?" she prompted.

Pitch's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Clearly, this is NOT the same," he argued.

"No- I suppose it's not," Wishing Star sighed, the joy fading from her eyes. When her happiness dimmed, so did the light that radiated from her body. Pitch decided that he didn't like that glum look on her.

With a loud sigh, Pitch spread his arms, grinding his jaw.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, his tone nearing desperation. "Just tell me and I will do it," he promised. It was pathetic, falling so low as to want to please a pouting girl. Well, she was a _pretty_ pouting girl. He should at least give her that credit.

But still! What was wrong with him?

However, at Pitch's words, the Wishing Star perked up once more, the light reentering her starry eyes and making it instantly all worth his momentary lapse of sanity.

"You truly mean that?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," Pitch practically whined. The Wishing Star beamed all the brighter, and suddenly she moved forward to take his hand in hers.

"Good!" she rejoiced. "Follow me," she bade him, leading him gently off towards the crowded picnic benches.

"No- ah- wait," Pitch winced in hesitation, bracing as if he was being led to his doom.

...

The children chattered loudly amidst themselves at the wooden park tables, gorging themselves on candy and laughing at each other as Pitch was led hither by the warm hand of the Wishing Star.

"I don't- they can't- what are we-?" Pitch was protesting, sentences coming out in fragmented pieces. The Wishing Star turned sharply, pressing a single finger suddenly over his lips. It was enough to shock Pitch into silence. Once it was established that Pitch had stopped his whining, she led him to the nearest set of bushes not too far from the children.

"Okay," she said, only then releasing his hand to gently rattle the bushes.

"Now... make a shadow," she instructed. Pitch frowned, unamused. However, he did notice that their disturbance amidst the bushes had begun to turn some of the children's heads from what they were doing.

"What was that?" one of the girls asked timidly, looking over her shoulder.

"What was what?" asked a boy. The Wishing Star smiled and rattled the bushes gently again.

"That!" the same girl exclaimed.

"It's... probably a rabbit or something..." a different boy assured, not sounding quite so convinced of his own claim.

"Go on!" Wishing Star now prompted quietly, making a shooing motion at Pitch with a giddy grin.

This was humiliating. None the less, Pitch rolled his eyes and moved forward to do just as the Wishing Star asked.

He easily morphed a shadow through the darkness, letting it increase in size in an undefinable, but intimidating form...

The children were springing up from the benches now, some staring with wide eyes as the shadow crawled along the floor towards them. Pitch grinned, seeing the worry and concern growing on the kid's faces. Now_,_ _this_ was fun...

"Guuuuuys..." whined one of the boys, stumbling backwards off his bench.

"Get the candy and RUUUuuun!" screamed another heavier set boy, who promptly scooped up his bag of goodies and sprinted away. Pitch chuckled wickedly and just as the whole rest of the table was about to follow the fat boy's lead- Pitch was startled from his task when the Wishing Star placed a hand on his shoulder. The shadow vanished after the break in his concentration, and simultaneously, a raccoon darted from the bushes in which they hid behind. he nocturnal creature ran away into the night.

The children watched as the raccoon ran away and everyone sighed in relief, then began laughing.

"It was only a raccoon!" cried one of the boys, putting on his bravado act and beckoning to his fellow pals who had taken off running moments earlier.

The girls who had also stayed at the table burst out laughing when the friends from their earlier party returned, looking embarrassed and foolish but also starting to laugh.

Pitch felt a grin inching upon his lips but quickly dropped it the moment that he noticed the Wishing Star was watching, smiling rather stupidly at him.

"See?" she said gently. "You don't have to scare them for _real _to have a good time," she grinned.

Pitch grunted noncommittally.

"Where did that raccoon come from?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.

"As the Wishing Star I have a few liberties that I can use to my advantage... though I never use them without good reason," she replied.

"What _kind_ of liberties?" Pitch inquired, his curiosity truly peaked.

"I can customize certain circumstances as I see fit," Wishing Star answered with a small smile and an innocent shrug. Pitch's brows rose up.

No wonder the Man in the Moon kept his precious daughter so well hidden...

"Well... that's very... _convenient_..." Pitch commented, his tone soft as he regarded the Wishing Star with renewed interest. She smiled once more at him then looked off towards the children who had resumed their candy munching.

She was naive, and a bit too soft hearted- but Pitch considered thoughtfully the possibility that something interesting very well could result from their acquaintanceship...

A partnership perhaps? The Guardians would never think twice about disrespecting him again if he had a friend like _her_ on his side...

If he could just get close to the Wishing Star... it might result in her being willing to grant him other wishes? Maybe even wishes concerning the Guardians...?

It was definitely worth a try.


	4. Chapter 4

"I have done all I can for you and now I'm afraid your time for today is up."

Pitch Black turned to fix his dark stare upon the Spirit of the Wishing star, having known this moment would come, but had by no means prepared for it. They had spent the entire day and well into the night frolicking from town to town, overseeing the festivities and sometimes involving themselves quite subtly into them. The time had been so pleasant that Pitch was almost convicted that he'd indeed had _fun_. But alas, good days always came to an end.

Now they walked along a large bridge extending over the San Francisco Bay. Cars flew by just behind them obliviously, and the night wind whipped at Pitch's hair and robes.

The Wishing Star hovered near to him, a sad, startlingly sincere smile painted upon her fair lips.

"I understand," he responded slowly, turning his eyes away from the shimmering waters below. The reality of being imprisoned within his Nightmare fortress for another whole year crashed hard upon him. It was so easy to forget what being shackled felt like after one had been set free from them. The mere thought of returning to the fear infested halls of his underground cage caused a shiver up his spine, shortly followed by a spark of burning resentment within his chest.

It was hard for his heart to accept that he was about to willing submit to the Wishing Star's conditions, but too much was at stake. He could not risk loosing favor with the inexplicably talented daughter of the Man in the Moon, and these conditions were far more merciful than what they could have been.

Despite his current feelings to the contrary, a year would not be _that_ long of a wait.

Being immortal tended to instill one with a much less severe concept of time. Patience was just another lesson that Pitch had learned throughout the hundreds of years of his existence. He'd become quite good at biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunities. And the same would be required of him now.

Extracting himself from his thoughts, Pitch suddenly flashed a very white, winning smile towards the Wishing Star. Her bleak expression evaporated into a smile with a potency to match his own.

"I thank you, Wishing Star," Pitch said, keeping his voice soft and velvety. "Your efforts on my behalf have ..._touched_ me exceedingly."

Pitch's insides clenched in utter disgust at his own words, even as the skillfully feigned sentiments leaked out through his teeth. Under normal circumstances, Pitch would rather be trampled beneath a stampede of Nightmare's hooves and die before making such an admission, but for the sake of his agenda, there it was.

And never had any words of his, lies, or truths, ever drawn such an expression of gratitude from another.

The Wishing Star beamed with a new intensity, her skin glowing radiantly as whips of light exuded from her angelic being. Her large sapphire eyes spoke volumes as she flitted nearer to him.

"It overjoys me to hear so," she replied, her own tone of voice as sweet as a child's. When she suddenly extended a small hand out to set upon his arm, Pitch stiffened, not knowing what she was up to.

But then, a blinding light flashed around them, causing Pitch to slam his eyes shut and protect his face with his arms. Taken utterly off guard, Pitch thought for certain his end had come. The Wishing Star had seen into his trick! She was destroying him now! He was an idiot for thinking he could fool-!

Then, the light was gone, and her hold on his arm receded. Pitch, breathing raggedly, dared to squint one eye open. He found they were now standing in the woods, just before the deep, dark hole in the ground that led down into his territory.

She had teleported them. Teleported! Just like North's magical slow globe portals, the Wishing Star had a similar power all of her own! Remarkable! Pitch quickly recomposed himself, steadying his breathing and putting on an expression of indifference. He brushed off his robe as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat.

"Well, I imagine you must be off. Wouldn't want _daddy_ to worry, would we? What would he say, seeing you spent the day with one such of the likes as _me?" _Pitch had to chuckle cruelly at the notion. The Man in the Moon would no doubt be furious, and there would be nothing Pitch would enjoy better!

"I'm not going to tell my father..."

Pitch blinked, swinging around to stare in shock at the Wishing Star. She clasped her hands in front of her with her eyes lowered and shoulders hunched guiltily.

"I... I don't think he would be pleased that I've helped you the way that I have. He may believe that you've tricked me in some way, or given me a false taste of your character and thus lured me into a trap of some sort. But I'm not a child. I've been around for hundreds of years. I'm not as naive as he thinks I am," she sighed.

Pitch swallowed.

"No indeed," he replied at last, looking her up and down carefully.

"I've had fun tonight, Pitch. I know you are a bit rough around the edges... and... well... rather dark and dreary. And you may not have the right idea about the world or your place in it... but I can't deny I've enjoyed spending time with you," the Wishing Star confessed, a shy blush creeping onto her glowing cheeks.

The tightness was returning to coil in Pitch's stomach.

"I'd always wondered what you were like. The infamous Pitch Black. My father always warned me about you. And I just wanted to say, I'm happy to have met you in person at last," the Star finished, fidgeting with her fingers and then running her hands down the front of her gown to smooth the folds.

Well... this was most disturbingly awkward. A momentary lapse of silence followed, where Pitch tried desperately to think of how to respond. He was usually quick with words, but they came easier when you were being snarky and insincere. It was infinitely more difficult to come up with something _nice_ to say...

Eventually, he settled with,

"I was glad to have met you as well."

Then...

"It is my hope this will not be the last of our encounters. Is it too impertinent of me to ask of when I shall see you again?"

There! It was out. Hopefully from this point forward, lying to the lovely Star would come much easier. He'd never had a problem backstabbing other immortals before... Why should _she_ be any different?

The Wishing Star giggled lightly, finding something amusing. Just _what_ Pitch couldn't fathom.

"Well... When I see you no longer intend to be any kind of threat to the Guardians, and have indeed learned this very important lesson about reformation and mending your ways, then I shall alter the circumstances of your sentence and we can talk about them then..." she explained lightly.

"That might be a rather long time away I'm afraid," Pitch commented with a cocked brow. He was going for charm, but he thought he sounded more hopeless than anything.

"If I see that you require my visits... then I will come. But in the meantime, I do have other duties to attend to. You are not the only one who has spied me out from the heavens," she smiled.

Pitch heaved a sigh.

"Very well. I shall simply have to suffer through your absence."

Another giggle came from the Star and Pitch was feeling quite confident that flattery was the way to go with this innocent little spirit. Clearly, she was not accustomed to being flattered by anyone, and the feelings it would stir inside her would be new and exciting. He just hoped his efforts would ultimately lead to his goal and not... well... something he was _not_ prepared for.

"Farewell Pitch. Be _good_ now..." The Wishing Star said softly, bowing her head respectfully to him before her glorious form shimmered away, vanishing into the night.

Pitch stood a moment out in the chill of the woods. Then, he headed down into his black hole. The hole he would inhabit for yet another year before his plans could continue...

...

A year passed. It was long, and grueling, but it passed at last.

Pitch was once again feeling the full weight of weariness from being tirelessly pursued by his Nightmares but something deep inside him had changed. Now, he did not just run. He fought back.

Throughout his time in his fortress, Pitch tirelessly sought how he could destroy the beastly creatures once and for all. Thus far, each of his attempts had proven futile, defeating them momentarily only to have them come back in more numbers. But he still believed their ultimate defeat was possible. He had just to discover how...

When he was not concerning himself with how to bring his tormenters to their final demise, Pitch had been going over careful calculations to his plans for winning the Wishing Star over to his side.

He could not win her over from afar, for there was no guarantee how often her gaze from the stars was actually upon him. As she'd already stated, she did have other wishers to preform her duties for...

Somehow, Pitch needed to draw her from her perch amidst the galaxies and inspire her to want to spend further time helping him than was absolutely necessary.

Often, he wondered if she could hear him, when he spoke quiet nothings to her out into the night. He never said anything of serious consequence, but rather only acknowledged her presence every once and a while.

Now the day had come. The sun had risen on October the 31st and now Pitch was free. He escaped his dreaded black hole and raced into the openness of the forest about him, becoming a smoothly traveling shadow upon the ground.

Enjoying the wind and all the sensations of freedom, Pitch roamed the country sides leisurely, fully embracing the calm morning for what it was.

After Pitch had taken time to breathe in the fresh air, he made for the nearest town and passed by the elementary school. Children littered the playground yard, playing soccer on the fields and climbing all over the jungle gyms. A large majority of the children were each wearing costumes in typical Halloween tradition.

It was while Pitch Black stood upon the school buildings roof, over looking the play field that the sudden sight of a familiar boy caught his eye.

Pitch ground his teeth. It was the one called _Jamie_...

Dressed as Spiderman, the young boy was hanging upside down from his knees on the soccer goal post pretending to spray webbing from his wrists, much to the laughing amusement of his friends. Indeed... the entire group of children were those Pitch recalled with perfect clarity.

A low growl escaped Pitch's throat and his dark form seeped into a shadow, stretching across the floor of the roof, down the large building and into the populated play yard.

It'd been too long since Pitch had payed Jamie and his clan of troublemakers a proper visit ... Why, it would be rude to pass up such an opportunity when it had so obviously presented itself.


End file.
